This edict bore fruit just after dawn on Friday when, the mist clearing suddenly, a strange ship was discovered among us, between Swiftsure and Alcedo. She was as unaware of us as we had been of her, and instantly tried to acquit herself out of it. However, two shots caused her to change her mind, and her captain was taken aboard Swiftsure and later Ark Royal. This was an Irish ship from Waterford, but one day out of Cadiz, and they were able to assure us that the fleet in the harbour was still as the Flemings had described it.
But the Waterford captain had one other item of news that a rich argosy of ten ships had left Cadiz at the same time as himself, bound for Lisbon. Ralegh came back from the next council in a doubtful temper having been commanded to take Warspite. with Mary Rose, Quittance, Lioness, Truelove, and twelve smaller ships towards the coast in the hope of cutting off this argosy. It was not hard to see how his feelings turned. Here was a chance of early and rich plunder which might be as good as anything to be found later; but, with the wind now picking up again, we had just come round Cape Santa Maria and should be off Cadiz by nightfall. The attack might even be at dawn tomorrow, and in that event we should miss it.
However, nothing offered but to obey. All that day, in fitful easterly breezes catching the great sails and then letting them hang again, we tacked and luffed towards the coast, towards Huelva and the long sandy stretches of the Playa de Castilla. With the wind thus fitful, visibility not above a mile and all crews on the alert for instant action, the dominant sound through the rest of that day and the following night was the creak of timber, the living movements of seasoned oak under varying stress, the plash of water rippling and lapping at the bows, the flap of a sail as it partly filled, the thin whisper of the wind in the shrouds.
Saturday dawn broke much as Friday had darkened, though the wind was a trifle more steady. Then at 9, when we must have been almost at the mouth of the Guadalquivir, Lioness signalledshehad sighted 14 sail on her larboard bow, and all canvas was bent to give chase.
We knew we were close inshore but the coast was not visible. About midday we saw a handsome ship some two miles ahead of us a carrack of five decks and a sitting target for a powerful vessel like Warspite if ever we got within range. But this was almost the last break in an overcast sky and a choppy sea, and only Lioness, fitfully seen ahead of us, reported she was keeping the quarry in view.
About three Sir George Carew came aboard from Mary Rose, with Captain Gyfford of Quittance, and Gfflord said he felt it his duty to report, from his knowledge of this coast, that we were hazarding our ships by sailing so close inshore. Sir Walter replied that where the Portuguese led we could follow, but it was clear that Gyfford’s words weighed with him. As commander of this squadron he would be held responsible for any loss or damage. Capturing a convoy of rich prizes in normal weather was one thing; risking shipwreck in a fog to catch them was another. After some little while longer he called off the chase.
The two officers were leaving in Sir Walter’s troy when the curtain of cloud and mist briefly lifted and five foreign vessels were to be seen barely a league away. One was the carrack, the others were all sizeable vessels. We stared at the ships: they were clearly outlined; but before Ralegh could issue an order, the cloud came down and blotted them out. We stood and peered and Sir Walter paced and muttered, but there was no second view. The fog grew thicker every minute. Sir George Carew made a move to leave Warspite, but Sir Walter stayed them hoping for a clearance.
None came. Carew said: “If I do not leave now I shall be here until dawn, Walter. Mary Rose is lost to sight, and I shall only regain her by good fortune.”
“Stay willingly,” Ralegh said. “I’d not have you go. This may lift around sunset. What d’you think, Gyfford?”
“I doubt we shall see more today, sir. These fogs come up and cling around the foot of Spain: I believe it is something to do with the Straits and the nearness of Africa. If it thicken more, no one will dare move, so we shall be no worse off when dawn comes.”
“I’m not so sure. Fear is a great spur. They’ve seen us as surely as we’ve seen them.”
Our nearest neighbourwas Gyfford’s Quittance, a sister ship of Crane which Belemus had visited in Falmouth Haven; she was scarcely more than a cable’s length astern but by now she could only be seen fitfully as the fog swirled round.
“I’m not for giving up,” Sir Walter said sharply. “Go back to your ships if you can still find them. We’ll ride it out here until dark. If there’s no improvement by then I have a mind to go and seek out this carrack. She if any will be loth to hazard herself upon the rocks.”
“How seek her out without greater risk at night?” Gyfford asked.
“I’ll take a few men and look for her in my troy. Daylight fog defeats us all. In the night lights show.”
Sir George glanced at his kinsman. “I don’t at all like that. It is no advantage to preserve the ships and hazard the Admiral. Besides if you found her, what could you do?”
“Your troy won’t carry much upwards of a dozen men. You’d be slaughtered, sir,” said Gyfford.
“That I’d try to avert. You, Captain Gyfford, must keep in sight of Warspite till dark. We’ll signal you when we start and we’ll show a double lantern on the troy. You shall follow. Quittance has a shallow draught and is unlikely to run on the rocks if she keeps close to our light. Lioness shall follow Quittance in a like manner, and Truelove can come after. Warspite will remain here with Mary Rose and the rest of the fleet.”
“Ah, now ~
“No, George, we risk no galleons. Three lighter vessels can accomplish all we need.”
My friendship with Victor Hardwicke had become a singularly affectionate one, but we came near to blows over this adventure. In the end Ralegh, staring coldly at us both and telling us this was no childish game, said we might both go with him.
It was a small party. Ourselves, a ship’s bosun called Warnett, Gunner Johns, and four of a crew. Captain Oakes did his best to prevent the expedition, but Sir Walter would have no truck with objections.
When we left the breeze had steadied from the south-east. We had to rely on it for direction and hope it did not change, for otherwise we should fall far off course.
We went slow for fear of losing our followers. We could not see Quittance, only her light winking like a widow’s lantern behind a curtain. Ahead all was dark.
And it stayed dark. Our course we reckoned was almost due north, following the line of the land. Sir Walter sat in the bows of the tiny boat, his velvet cloak wrapped round him; he spoke little and we followed his example, only staring. The sea was slight but occasionally choppy as if disturbed by shallows. Behind us, we knew, Quittance and the others were taking soundings. Once or twice sea-birds fluttered across our path.
It grew cold. The sea mist cloyed and clung. We began to lose touch with the light behind and took another reef in our sail. About four Victor opened a bag he had brought and passed round food and ale. Then we saw a light ahead. Food and drink were forgotten.
Gunner Johns made the agreed signal to the ship behind, but in the thick conditions it seemed unlikely they had seen it. The light ahead blinked and wavered and became two. Warnett put the helm over. We were closing rapidly, but then it seemed the look-out on the other ships must have seen us, for we heard distant cries, and both lights went out.
“Keep her steady as she goes.”
Victor fidgeted with the hilt of his sword.
“We’re a sitting target with this light.”
Now for some minutes there was no more talk. For all we knew we were passing between the vessels we had sighted; or we might be leading Quittance and the others into a trap.